ch came yesterday morning. One
case goods missing; and the very one which belongs to me personally.
After all these weeks of waiting--hard, hard luck! Never mind! Read
few days ago of remedy for "lowness of spirit," "neerslagtigheid"
(down-heartedness), "Think of the burdens of some individual you
know." Excellent! Now let me think of the sorrows of that unhappy
little mother, Mrs. Van Wyk, 167. When last wrote, she had left; but
yesterday morning she was sent back; papers not in order; and on
inquiries at office to-day was told point-blank (with a snub in the
bargain) that she could no more think of going. Such a life; had not
the heart to bear the news, for I heard she has been crying all
day--poor little castaway. Is there no pity? Feel like Kit Kennedy.
Would there were a bag of chaff somewhere near which I could pummel
soundly for half an hour, just to let off steam; just to pummel
something, seeing one cannot pummel somebody; it might ease the
strain.

Why, this innocent creature, with bandaged arm and suckling at
breast, she couldn't hurt a fly if she tried; and yet, and yet all
this worry, all this endless trouble and disappointment, just to get
her from here to her mother in Norval's Pont--and now? Let me not
think on it! She will eat her heart away in sorrow, and no doubt soon
will be at rest in a bit room six feet by three.

In hospital yesterday, found young girl (20), Henning's, dying;
enteric; so young; so strong; in flower of life; it seems too awful,
too contrary, "Levend zij den dood in" (Living they enter eternity);
and others again, little infants, will struggle and battle for life
for weeks and weeks, regular "Kannie doods" (Cannot dies, literally).
Great mystery!

Mother at bedside; told me she said she was going to Jesus; "Ma, jij
het nou ver mij twintig jaar ge had en nou wil die Heere vir mij he"
(Mother, you have had me twenty years, and now the Lord wants me);
quite unconscious when we prayed; poor mother, the helplessness,
utter helplessness of Love!

In other ward Mrs. Du Toit and Mrs. Grobbelaar very, very bad; saw
the worst, and prayed for them--and the end? End is this:--that this
afternoon we buried these three, and sang over open graves, "Ik
geloof een eeuw'ge leven" (I believe in life everlasting), "Ik ga
heen om u plaats te bereiden" (I go to prepare a place for you).

I often marvel that never yet been at loss for suitable text to talk
about at graves. In beginning I used to ha